


Unexpected

by Caramel_fangirl_18



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Character, F/M, Slow Romance, Unconventional Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28024641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caramel_fangirl_18/pseuds/Caramel_fangirl_18
Summary: Joker thinks the only person who can complete him is the batman. Maybe that's not true
Relationships: Joker (DCU) & You, Joker (DCU)/Reader
Kudos: 24





	1. And they meet

“You know, this” he licks his lips, “is the point where you beg to stay alive.”

His steps drag around her seated body and she hears the muffled giggles as he prepares himself for her assumed response. She tilts her head, breathing still as she fixed him with another apathetic gaze. Lashes lazily flutter against her cheeks again while she watches him pause at her silence. 

“Or maybe,” he begins dragging a small knife from somewhere to her face as he grips her with both hands, “I should just...end you now.”

She wasn't fully paying attention to when he managed to step close enough to grab her again. And definitely wasn’t paying attention to the loss of humor in his eyes and words. Wordlessly, she traced the cracked paint on his face pausing when his own eyes regarded hers. Her lack of defiance or fear _unnerving_ and exciting him. His impatiently prodding eyes solidifying her first words to be spoken. 

“Do it.”

The tilt of his head along with the blatant curiosity swimming in his eyes enough to trigger a matching response from her.

To him, it didn’t inherently seem like she was trying to outwit him or save her life. In fact, he wasn’t sure she cared about anything. When he caught her, along with the four other hostages, she didn’t frantically try to escape or cry or fight back. However, she wasn't frozen from fear either. If he had to describe her, he’d have to say she was oozing indifference. 

His goons were given one job. Find five people from the party who looked important enough to cause a panic if they went missing. And the other four didn’t disappoint. Playing into their fear easily and giving him more than enough footage to call out the bat...again. 

Since the batsy had refused to kill him during their last encounter, he managed to escape from the asylum. It wasn’t hard with the psychiatrist’s obsession with him. He even managed to stir up enough trouble to once again send gotham’s finest on a wild goose hunt for him. This time though, it wasn’t about getting the bat to reveal himself. He only wanted one thing. Break the bat. 

He’d certainly broken the city already. The city was ablaze with fear and it only fed him. It gave his walk a skip and his mind a boost. It also made anyone who worked with him extra wary of encounters with him. Which, as you guessed it, only made joker _thrive_. 

“Joker?”

Her even voice grounded him back to the empty warehouse they occupied. With her lack of fear, he decided to deal with her personally, sending his goons back into the streets. So far, she hasn't disappointed him. Or fueled him for that matter. 

“What’s a man gotta do to get a pretty girl like you to scream?” 

The abruptness of the question coupled with his sudden squatting position made her furrow her brows but she still wasn’t shaking with the fear his mere presence generally brought. Hell, she wasn't even angry at him for kidnapping her. An odd one she is.

She smoothly shrugs her shoulders letting her eyes drift along the rafters of the warehouse.   
“Be scary.”

The cackle that spilled from his body forced her eyes right back on his body. She watched him fall back into a seated position, legs stretched and crossed in front of him, weight leaned on both hands. 

“You’re killing me here, beautiful.”

Another shrug from her. As his giggle fit subsided, she continued to stare, memorizing his chaotic aesthetic. He seemed to do the same to her.

He had her seated in a metal chair, hands tied behind her, with each leg individually tied to a leg of the chair. From his position on the floor, he’d have a perfect view up her babydoll dress, if he cared. If he wanted, he could perfectly admire the shapely look her black heeled boots and black tights gave her legs. And given that her neck and bosom had been accentuated slightly from having her hands pressed together behind her, he could admire that too. If only he cared. The only thing he could bring himself to care about in that moment was her apathy. It was unexpected, unwarranted, and unappreciated if he were being honest. 

Gaining the title of “the Clown Prince of Crime,” carried with it the guarantee that people feared him with or without meeting him. And if they weren’t afraid, they were angered by his lack of predictability. But indifference?

He tsked before looking away and shaking his head. “This just won’t do.”

“Then kill me.”

His eyes snapped back to hers. “I could.”

“Go for it.”

“Well this is not nearly as fun as it should be.”

“So, let me go?”

The tilt of her head as the question pushed past her lips added another layer of confusion to this whole situation.

“Well now, which would you prefer?”

And then her brows furrowed deeply at that like he had confused her. Her lips were in a soft ‘o’ watching as he slowly sat up. He brought his legs back towards him but continued sitting. He placed his elbows on his thighs watching as no distinguishable emotions passed over her face.

The silence that settled over the two was uncomfortable but shallow, like it’d take little effort to cut through. He had every intention in the beginning to kill all the hostages. Make them dance, then watch them die. But she wasn’t playing by the rules. She wasn’t playing. 

It’s like the value she placed on her own life was arbitrary even to her. Something that waxed and waned based on the circumstances. He could clearly see she put actual effort into getting ready for the party he crashed. Nice clothes, clean afro, smooth caramel skin, perfectly done up face. But while sitting in front of the literal face of chaos, she was composed. 

“What were your original plans for me?”

He regarded her for a beat mulling over his options. Clearly she could no longer be used to stir up conflict with the bat. The company she kept was clearly well off but from her lack of response, he knew threatening them would serve him no purpose. Maybe he could get a ransom for her? But those worked best when the victims played into the fear and false belief that they’d be rescued. 

“To kill you,” he spoke as evenly as she looked. 

“What changed?”

“You aren’t afraid.”

“I would be.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her to which she shrugged.

“I like your aesthetic. Plus your mind was made up before I sat in this chair. No amount of begging or pleading would save me or end my life quicker. You aren’t a normal thug.”

A small giggle as he adjusts on the floor. “You aren’t afraid because you want to,” his tongue swipes across his lips, “fuck me.”

“Oh, no.” The shake of her head caused the tight curls on her head to sway a bit. 

He abruptly turned to lay on his back, looking up at her over her knees. “Explain,” he utters slowly.

“I’m ace so while I like your look, I don’t want you like that.”

He lets out a short laugh before starfishing his body in front of her. The unexplained movements of his entertaining her. Any outsider looking in might be confused by the man laying down in front of a woman tied up to a chair. Let’s be honest, the situation confused the two in it. 

The silence lingered for a few minutes before the joker was back on his feet skipping around her tied up body. He stopped behind her placing his hands roughly on her shoulders kneading her back muscles but not being surprised by her lack of movement. He leaned in close to her neck taking a deep breath. She smelled of self-awareness and lavender. 

He didn’t pull away before asking, “so, beautiful,” melodic voice muffled by her dress, “what do I do with you?”

A shrug from her brought his head to rest on her shoulder.

A small beat passed then he was back in front of her staring her down. Her wrists were untied now and in her lap, her fingers rubbing the slight burn she felt. Neither of their eyes strayed from each other as he calculated her next possible moves. 

She did none of them.

“So? Made a new decision?” her voice never once touching any emotions besides genuine curiosity. 

He turned from her tapping his fingers against his pants waiting for the shuffling sound of her untying her legs but never got it.

“You are aware that I can kill you, right?” the question coming at her from over his shoulder.

“Fully.”

“And you know I can hurt you without killing you? Just because?”

“Got that too.”

He sighs exasperatedly before turning back to see her resting in the chair. Legs still the way he left them. One look over her body and he breaks into a fit of giggles, clutching his sides.

Now it’s her turn to raise an eyebrow at his antics.

“I’m assuming you’re even further from a decision?”

He nodded, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes before yanking her to his body. The new position was slightly awkward because her legs were still tied to the chair but his hands stayed planted to her waist. She swallowed before giving a soft sigh bringing her own arms to rest atop his. It looked romantic when in actuality, he was testing her. Probably. He no longer knew what he was doing, just that he was doing it. She was an attractive girl. That was undeniable. She also tugged on his intrigue in ways that only the bat could pull off. For once he was at a loss but he pulled back slightly noting the subtle way her top half followed him, or tried to.

“Untie your legs,” he spoke, pulling back fully before gesturing to her legs. 

She let a small breath go and gave him a firm nod before planting herself in the chair again, bending over to undo the binds. Once she was finished, she dusted her boots off to make sure they stayed clean before standing up again. Eyes finding his easily.

“So this is where you kill me right? Lure me into a false sense of security, then stab me.”

“I could.”

“Or?”

He shook his head. “No or. I could. I could...also kiss you. Punch you. Leave you. Stare...at,” his words trailed at the end as he gave her body a once over. Attractive indeed.

She fidgeted with her hands in front of her. A normal person would do that in nervousness. She just did it. With his eyes no longer boring into hers, she found her gaze wandering over his posture. Shoulders slightly raised, tensed. Body rigid with indecision and what looked like a version of lust. Fingers wiggling against his pants leg, probably keeping tabs on the knife, in case he decided on killing her finally. Tongue poking out of his mouth just a tad while he took seductive steps towards her. She assumed it was seductive based on the look he gave when her gaze lingered on his face. 

“Maybe I take you with me. Find out what makes you tick.”


	2. And they talk

Amusement dances behind her eyes while she watches the joker. She was sitting on the hotel bed, originally counting the notification dings from her best friend. Joker told her not to touch it yet, given that he didn’t fully trust her to not call for help. While she hadn’t screamed or alerted the desk attendant of her status as a possible hostage, he knew she was pragmatic. And a phone in her hands might spell the end of whatever this was.

After whisking her away from the warehouse, Joker considered having her take him to her house but quickly voted against that when he turned her phone back on. Someone named Brucie had sent at least eight texts and that number was only going up. A relationship status that he’d have to question her about later. For now, he wanted to get to know her or rather get to know why he wanted to know her. 

Once he decided against going anywhere she knew, he found the closest four star hotel and barged his way into the best suite. Could also be read that they argued over the logistics of him killing the staff and them hiding in the room that eventually police would be bound to find them in versus her just paying. Not his normal means of operating but he’d have to adjust. Why? Because she intrigued him? Maybe. Probably. Yes.

The reactions to the Joker were immediate and predictable. Hence, why he never gave women a second glance. It was easier to promote chaos and dysfunction when everyone existed on an even playing field in his mind. The bats' elevation over the normal people was supposed to be his only focus. Break him. 

But in a span of two hours, this woman managed to bring herself a step above the rest leveling out with Batman. And she wasn’t doing anything extraordinary. But the endless amusement wrinkling her face at him and her almost calculated way of existing tugged and pulled him right to this spot in front of her.

He had been muttering and pacing almost melodically the whole hour that they had been in the room. The option of killing her was gone the moment he held her body not because of inability. Not that she knew that. So where did that leave him? While reluctant in how she got there, she was in fact cooperating with him in some sense. She also admitted a type of attraction to him and didn’t reject his physical affection. He knew a part of him wanted to explore the idea of her but that brings him to, how? Would her fight or flight instincts kick in the minute he gave her freedom? Would she finally realize that she feared him? Would this Brucie convince her to get help?

“Hey Joker?”

His body freezes which she takes as a sign to continue.

“I don’t want to interrupt your thoughts anymore than I currently am but if I don’t respond to Bruce in the next five minutes or so, he will track my phone. Not trying to rush you or anything. But I gather that you have no plans to kill me, not because you can’t, but because I’m doing something,” she pauses to carefully choose her words. “Maybe not doing something. But I’ve done something _different_? Yea, different,” she inhales. Exhaling the next words purposefully, “Maybe send him an update that I felt shaken up from the party, he knew I went, and needed to destress.”

Eyes traveling the length of her body, accepting that she wasn’t _defying, denying, or betraying him_ , he gave a gentle nod towards the phone. She perked up and pointed to herself.

“You want me to do it?”

Another nod.

A quick second and her phone was being thrown back by the end of the bed. A beat passes and one single notification sound fills the air as the two of them watch each other. 

“What do we do now?” 

A question he’s been fighting himself over for too long. So he takes elongated steps towards the bed that somehow manage to stay graceful before plopping down in front of her. 

“You know I don’t,” he breathes, “do this.”

Not a question towards her but an admission of inexperience. Something pulled him to her leaving him without instructions on how to be near her. And the longer he stared at her, the more he realized he liked being near her. Now what that meant for the immediate future, good question.

A slight shaking of the bed alerted him to her scooching closer to him. Her knees were brought to her chest as she played with her fingers in her lap. She wasn’t nervous. 

“If it’s any consolation, because of my sexuality, I often find it hard to navigate the dating world,” she brought her eyes down to his. “Assuming that is what we will be doing?”

He didn’t miss the hope lacing her words. It was practically high fiving his own.

“Some might call it that.”

Her head tilt was surprisingly really cute to him. “And you?”

He laid back against the bed never letting his eyes leave her face. This was going to be a bad idea. Then again, did he really live on good ideas.

“What do I call you?”

A small smile, that he decided he liked, graced her lips. “Most call me Y/N.”

The laugh he responded with caught her off guard but she wasn’t angry with it. She knew it was a laugh of acceptance. And admiration. When it subsided, he reached a hand over to her. 

“I liked the way your hand felt in mine.”

She obliged him and appreciated the next laugh that fell out of his mouth. It was a reaction she could get used to. 

The two sat like that for a few minutes. Letting the comfort of unexplainable connections wash over them. Then they talked. Rather she talked. He would laugh and giggle and answer any direct questions that she had. But the more she talked the more he needed to know about her. 

Despite their conversation being anything but linear, he managed to piece together a general timeline of her life. She had been born and raised in Gotham living with her two older brothers and her rather wealthy parents. Growing up she hadn’t been forced to take part in her dad’s business so she put her efforts into dance, eventually going to school for it. She occasionally acts as a liaison for her father’s business which is how her best friend became Bruce Wayne. There has never been a romantic history between the two because he’s a playboy and she’s asexual. The party she had been at was actually a business meeting for her to get her dad a new client. Her calculative nature could be attributed to her being a daddy’s girl, her dad being the exact same way. Not that she wasn’t close to her mom. She was rather close to all of her family. Her dad just held more of a special place in her heart. 

As for her dating life, she hadn’t been with anyone in five years. Her last major relationship ended a week after her twenty third birthday. Something about the guy being unable to date someone without sex. Bruce had tried setting her up with people through the years but she always ran into the same issues. So she subconsciously gave up dating. Not that her parents minded. They accepted her and had no expectations involving her love life. 

During the conversation, the two of them had managed to plant themselves at the head of the bed. Her head on his chest and his arm loosely draped around her middle. If asked, neither would be able to explain when or how it happened but they did like it. 

Her phone had stuttered between silence and letting her know that her parents and brothers were informed of her kidnapping. Joker allowed her to ease their worries with multiple phone calls explaining that she managed to fight her way to freedom. It was harder to convince her dad because he knew she wasn’t much of a fighter but that was rectified with a detailed recount of her using wit rather than her fists. 

Throughout all of this, Joker found himself rather enamored with how lively she could become. From her animated hand motions to the crinkling of the skin around her eyes when she smiled. _He knew he would have to see more._ Whatever that took. 

He also relished the way her body felt in his hands. He enjoyed the surprising softness of her hair as he absentmindedly ran his fingers over her scalp. When he first did it, she playfully admonished him saying that normally it’s best not to touch a black girl’s hair without permission, but since the little massage felt so nice, she’d let it slide. That caused a bit of a cackle to bubble out of him but she seemed to not mind those. If anything, she burrowed deeper into his side each time. 

“Some people might assume I’m crazy or experiencing Stockholm syndrome for doing this though,” she whispered while looking up at him. 

“People think I’m just crazy. I’m. not.”

“Didn’t think you were,” she said with a slight shake of her head. 

Hazel eyes gazed down at e/c ones. Her lips were pulled into a slight frown, his own mimicking her original perceived indifference, her arms tightening their grip ever so slightly while his followed suit. 

The joker hadn’t said much in the way of who he was but that didn’t lessen the strength of the unspoken connection. His silence and held back words helped forge that bond through physical touch. Nor did it diminish the feelings built in the time they spent together. It wasn’t much but he didn’t care. If he followed the same rules other people did, he wouldn’t be the Joker. 

“I am...curious,” he started, “do you,” he gestured with his body, “hate sex?”

A small breathy laugh fell out of her lips. “No. But if I had to choose between sex and anything else, anything else would win everytime.”

“And people force you to choose?”

“The people I dated, yes.”

“Want me to kill any of them?”

She laughed. “As entertaining as that’d be, probably wouldn’t be worth your time.”

He raised his eyebrows at this. Killing someone not worth his time? Ha. Ha ha. Outside of wanting to do it as a gift to her, he’d do it because the sun came up. 

“Okay, okay. It’d be worth it to you but I’m not a killer so I couldn’t wish death upon anyone.”

“You don’t have to know until it’s over,” he sing-songed.

“That’s sweet,” she smiled up at him. “But you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do.”  
“Ha ha ha. Normally beautiful, you’d be very correct. But I like when you smile, so for this, you get to choose.”

He watched her eyes and she mulled it over, waiting to see them light up in decision. She did not disappoint.

“How about instead of killing them, you give them a Joker-style gift instead?”

The smile that overtook his face was more than enough confirmation.


	3. And they connect

Over the next week, various news sources alerted her to the actions of Joker towards her exes. He was definitely creative. No one died, but she was sure a couple of them might have wanted to choose death. Bruce, knowing of her connection to each person, wanted her to stay in his penthouse instead of her own. She had been kidnapped that week already, so he was sure, somehow, this was all an attack on her or her father. It took a purposeful trip to get hot chocolate to ease his thoughts. There might have been a few lies because, as Batman, Bruce would have conflicts with her budding romance with Joker. And yes, she knew her best friend's true identity, having figured it out the third week of knowing him. Eventually, she might tell the truth but only when she was sure that she could explain it in a way that wouldn't lead to Bruce giving her a moral decision to make. 

Even though she'd only known the Joker a week and a half, and only had a day's worth of face-time with him, that'd be a hard choice to make and the disappointment she'd cause someone, not something she cared to deal with. She liked Joker and at the moment, she felt it was a relationship worth exploring.

After having spent a day in the hotel, letting him get to know her, he took her back to her penthouse. While there, he gave himself a tour as she informed her family that she was back home. They planned a visit for the next day, needing to see her to believe she was okay. Joker then made her promise to watch the news over the coming days. He said it'd be a show unlike any other. And he was more than right.

She noticed at every scene, he left a single lily, her favorite flower, which she guessed was to let her know he was thinking about her. It was all really sweet, twisted and very unique, but still sweet. If she had an official way of contacting him, she would let him know how it made her feel but he only left her a single joker playing card that he signed with a heart. She would just have to wait for him to come back around.

Not that he'd make her wait long. The next morning, she woke up to a bouquet of lilies in her bed. As she carried them to the kitchen to put in water, she wasn't surprised to see Joker enjoying a plate of French toast. 

His eyes wandered over her, taking note of her t-shirt clad body. Her legs still looked impossibly long but that was probably from years of dancing and only having panties on. And her hair appeared to be twisted, a style he found himself liking on her. Her movements were soft and fluid as she displayed the flowers in a vase before preparing her own plate of French toast and joining him at the island. 

They ate in relative silence with him enjoying her blatant contentment towards the situation. Clearly, she saw all of his gifts for her, more than likely appreciative in her own way. Her clear comfort around him, his own confirmation to that. 

When they were done eating, she cleared both their plates before offering him some juice which he accepted. This situation was oddly domestic for someone who just spent his week terrorizing individuals for slights against his… What was she to him? A question he asked himself multiple times while placing each lily. A question he was asking now that she slipped a hand in his. 

“Thank you,” she said simply. 

He nodded in acknowledgement still taking in how relaxed she was around him. He’d accepted that she didn’t fear him. Even accepted her lack of anger towards his first actions. But the idea of _being sweet on her_ would take some getting used to. 

He found himself bringing a hand up to a twist lightly tugging it, her eyes following his every move. 

“It’s a protective style that I wear at night so my hair stays healthy.”

He pulled at another twist. 

“I take it you like it?”

The next twist in his fingers got a more thorough inspection. It was puffy and the way the strands wrapped around each other seemed to defy physics. Everything about her defied what he knew humans to be. And he loved it.

Finally, he let the twist drop, his eyes dropping down to hers. His hand found a place on her hip, guiding her to stand between his legs. The hand connected to hers stayed but was readjusted to better suit their new position. 

“You aren’t normal.”

It wasn’t a malicious statement. More of an admission to not meeting too many people like her. Part of that was directed to her personality. The other part, a reflection of his limited dealings with black women. He had limited dealings with women in general but she definitely wasn’t falling neatly into any category he could create. 

“You don’t want me to be.”

That was correct. 

Unexpectedly, she took her free hand and began carding her fingers through his hair. Almost like she was mimicking his previous actions. But he didn’t mind. If he were honest, he liked it. 

His eyes closed as she massaged his scalp. She was really good at that. 

“So, what you gonna do today?”

He hummed to let her know he heard her but didn’t exactly respond. Her fingers, though small, were magic on his head. They were sending electric slivers of pleasure down his spine and he did not want it to end. 

“You can keep that going,” he finally let out.

She smiled but obliged. As she watched his face contort with obvious joy, she thought about how normal he'd look without the face paint or green hair dye. She loved what that stuff did for his aesthetic but she couldn't deny that she'd like his look without too. Honestly, she just liked the Joker, that much was clear.

The head massage managed to last twenty minutes with him squeezing her hip as an obvious sign of pleasure. He became especially grateful when both of her hands found their way onto his scalp, working through the hidden stress of his chosen profession. 

He, the Joker, liked someone who wasn't the Batman. Not only liked her but wanted her around in a capacity that didn't involve violence. He didn't want to _change her or break her_. If anything, he found himself wanting to protect the way she was. _And dare he say, he wanted to protect her._ The woman that not only intrigued him but amused him. 

She's the kind of woman that can be dangerous. The kind that can make a man do right if she looked at him the right way. Luckily for Joker, she had no intention of changing him either, finding his everything worthwhile as is. 

As her hands disconnected from his head, his hazel eyes reconnected with hers. There was an adoration swimming in her eyes that he was sure could be found reflected in his. An adoration that fueled his fingers' dance across her hips that pulled her closer to him. She gave in to his wants, placing her hands on his chest. Neither knew when their lips connected, nor were they cognizant of the reality around them. 

The kiss could have been slow, quick, gentle, or rough. The only part that mattered was that they kissed. It allowed the Joker to establish for himself what this girl meant to him. 

After breaking apart, the smile he loved graced her face, making one appear on his own face.

"You know, you still haven't told me what you're doing today."

"I think the better question," he breathed, " is what are we doing today?"

Her smile somehow brightened. "You trust me?"

His head went back as he laughed. Despite the sound, she wasn't alarmed, nor was she upset. Instead she was even more elated as she grabbed his hand to bring him to her couch.

She explained along the way that she wanted to introduce him to her culture. His fascination with her hair prompting this need. They could spend the whole day watching movies and shows that either helped shape people's perceptions of black people or helped her feel represented by the media. 

It would be a crash course into black culture but he'd take it. Especially since, he wasn't as versed in it as they would both like.

Once they curled up on the couch, they didn't leave it unless necessary. Bathroom breaks, food/snack breaks, and position readjustments. There was eventually a blanket pulled over the two as the day went on, as well as a nap sometime after midday.

Joker knew he wouldn't be able to do this daily but he could suspend his normal to get to know this girl. He would eventually bring her into his world if she let him, which he was sure she would. Believing in red strings and fate, wasn't really a Joker move but his connection to her was unexplainable at best. 

As a described psychopath and sociopath, he knew what his draw to the bats was. Despite their separation along 'good' and 'evil', they were the same. Agents of order and chaos. Forever entwined in a dance for the city. But a woman?

She could be classified as an agent of order but she willingly accepted chaos when needed. She was balanced in a way that Joker wasn't prepared to handle but he was determined to. He decided she wasn't his anything but rather she was hers living in a space he needed to occupy. He would occupy. He was currently occupying.

The two hadn't done much in the way of stealing kisses or sneaking sensual touches, choosing instead to express their feelings in the way they held each other. So, when Joker found himself planting his lips on her forehead, they were both pleasantly surprised. 

The action caused her to look up at him with a smile which he adored. "I like you."

Her smile proceeded to get lost in her eyes at his words. "I like you too."

Nothing else was said for the rest of the night but it wasn't needed. It was sort of implied that he would spend the night and that they'd more than likely spend the next day together. 

There was also a level of trust built between them that most couples don't share until later in their relationships. But conventional rules only applied to conventional relationships.

By the time bedtime rolled around, they both decided to share parts of themselves that, again, normally waited until relationships had matured. For Joker, he removed the makeup, allowing her to see and touch his scars. Apprehension was the default reaction to them but she went with empathy. For her, she redid her twists, allowing him to help. Her hair was her baby and having another person, who wasn't her hairdresser, touch it, was significant and he didn't take it for granted.

Instead he held her tighter as they slept. Kept her closer. Treated her like she was as precious to him as he felt she was.


	4. And they are

Morning hit him first causing him to look at the smaller body wrapped around him. She was like a squirrel hugging a tree. _Joker found it cute._

Since she mentioned hating kissing right after waking up, he figured he could just watch her until she woke up. And yes, he knew it was creepy but she was so relaxed and he couldn't help himself. She was the cutest like this, the most vulnerable. It was like this that he wanted to protect her the most. Keep her from the very world he helped create.

On the other hand, he _needed her to see him in his element. Needed_ her approval because in such a short time, she was important in the most inexplicable way. 

Given the way the light had been hitting her eye, she began stirring awake, tightening her grip on Joker just slightly. He assumed it was her way of checking to see if he was still there. He liked that she wanted him there as much as he wanted to be there. 

When she looked up, her eyes caught his and she smiled. He mirrored the action while bringing a hand to caress her cheek. He would never get over how soft she was. How delicate she felt. 

"Hi."

"Hi."

"We going out today?"

Joker nodded just enough for her to see, mesmerized by how bright her eyes were up close. _Dangerous woman, indeed._

"How about I go shower and stuff? You can use my guest bathroom. My maid should have put your clean clothes in there for you by now. We can meet in the kitchen and make pancakes. Cool?"

He smiled brightly, giving her a small squeeze in agreement. The day he dropped her off back home and explored her house told him where to find the bathroom she was referring to. 

There, he found his suit freshly cleaned and pressed as well as new undergarments which she probably kept new stuff for her best friend in case he stayed. There were also fresh towels and new toiletries. He'd have to ask how often Bruce was over or if this was a special treatment for Joker. 

After they both were done, him finishing first, they met in the kitchen. Surprisingly, her hair was still twisted but everything else about her was done up. Even her makeup. Wearing dresses must be her thing as well as tights. This time however, she was wearing black buckled platform heels. They were probably 6 inches but she walked flawlessly in them, accentuating the thickness of her curves. 

She carried herself well. It was distracting to Joker because now he was noticing every detail about her. He was obsessed with her legs. The length, the tone, the underlying strength. He didn’t know how he would classify himself as far as which woman’s body part he liked most but her legs were doing everything for him. And it didn’t help that she wore legwear to show them off. 

“Like the shoes?” she lifted a leg up to give him a better view, “They are my favorite. And they make my legs look so great.”

Yes, they do. He admired her some more, eyes trailing up past her thick thighs, full hips and waist, over her chest, only to land on her eyes. She could feel the hunger dripping from him but she also knew he wouldn’t do a thing to make her uncomfortable. And normally, she hated being stared at like a piece of meat but even through his hunger, there was still major adoration and that’s what controlled his staring. She did a little spin for him, earning herself a cackle of delight. 

Then they made pancakes. It was mostly a clean process until flour ended up on her face. Then some was on his face. Then it was war. Pancakes were made and eaten during the food fight. Things were even cleaned up as well despite the massive giggles coming from them both. And they both had to reapply their makeup. Though this time, he let her help, which let him see her concentrated face. 

Everything about her was cute. Unnecessarily cute. Dangerously cute. He’d give her anything she wanted and more if she asked and the only explanation he had for why is, he liked her. Now, he knew why he treated everyone the same beforehand regardless of gender. It’s easier to live in chaos if no one controls you. But the smile she let loose with him, could control him, did control him, was controlling his every heartbeat. 

_Dangerous._

After he was all set, she asked for his help with her hair. He was amazed that even after taking out the twists, her hair stayed in its position. Something she wrote off as black girl magic and given that he’d seen real magic, he could only agree. 

Every step that followed in her hair process confused and amused him. The separating of the twists, the spraying of detangling spray, as well as the use of water to fully fluff the edges. Never was a comb used because “that causes more hair to come out than necessary.” Neither was a brush because “this style didn’t call for that.” And after having both of their fingers in her hair, it still stayed up. It was poofy even. Poofier than the day he first met her. Black girl magic wasn’t something to be trifled with.

When they were both set to go, he dragged her from the house giddily. He hadn’t told her where he was taking her which left her asking all the questions. But he just laughed and did a happy dance in the car. A dance that had her laughing and eventually dancing along.   
She would’ve felt scared of his lack of driving ability if Joker didn’t make her feel safe. Also, people moved out of his way. It was like they knew who was driving despite him driving one of her cars. 

She was hoping whatever they did, didn’t come back to her and it seemed Joker thought of that. He pulled into a parking lot across the street from a very expensive jewelry store. He told her to go to the coffee shop and wait until he came back to get her. 

She then got to watch him skip across the street where everyone ran any direction but near him. He was an entertaining man. 

Once inside the store, the two employees were too stunned to do anything but follow the directions given to them. Sit on the floor, put blindfolds on, and keep quiet. A few of his goons showed up because for them this was supposed to be a smash and grab. And it was. 

The only thing Joker said was off limits was a row of silver necklaces with sapphire centerpieces. A gift for Y/N. At least, whichever one she chose would be her gift. 

He sent for her but wasn’t prepared to see her calm demeanor as she strode up to him. Having seen how animated she could get, he almost forgot that storms didn’t break her. She wasn’t wearing the apathy that he originally thought she embodied. She was measured, purposeful.

Joker watched her take in the scene with calculating eyes. No one was hurt, yet, so it shouldn’t be hard for her to be here. But his heart almost leapt from his chest when he saw how enamored she was with the necklace choices. It was her favorite gemstone paired with her favorite metal. 

“I can just pick one,” she asked, overjoyed. 

“Pick as many,” he sighed, “as you like.”

The squeal she let out put everyone’s eyes on her. Even the hostages were drawn in her direction causing one to slip off his blindfold. Joker caught the movement and shot the guy before he could get a good glimpse of her. She turned back to look at him with a head tilt. Fear still not attaching itself to her. With a nod from him, she turned back towards the necklaces picking up 2 and clutching them to her chest. 

“I can really have these?” she asked, turning back to face him. 

“Of course, beautiful.”

She stretched a hand out to him. “Help me put this one on?”

He crossed the small distance to her, taking the necklace from her. It had a thin silver chain with the sapphire pendant in the shape of a heart. She only had to lift the back of her afro off her neck for him to place it properly, fingers working swiftly against her skin. Once the clasps were closed, he placed a kiss where it met with her neck. 

She then turned and hugged him before pressing a kiss to his cheek. The smile that she wore was the very one that made him like this. _Made him feel._

“Am I supposed to just carry this in my pocket?” she asked, gesturing to the other necklace. 

He laughed loudly while walking to the register. He plucked a box and bag and wrapped it up for her. He chose to carry it for her as he reached for her hand, having heard sirens in the distance. 

“Let’s go cause more trouble.”

She giggled, following him, “Gladly.”

Joker’s goons cleared the rest of the store before heading to the next location. Their orders were to hit a bunch of small, unnecessarily expensive jewelry stores and they could do what they want with the loot. 

Joker knew she could fully handle his world. She watched him kill someone and didn’t flinch. She also wasn’t asking to pay for stuff which he guessed was because she was trying to see what it was like to live like the Joker. There was also a lack of panic attacks from having stolen something. Though that was probably just a part of her accepting nature. She could’ve said no but he would have just taken something from somewhere else. 

Much consideration went into where he planned on taking her. He wanted to do things she’d like while staying true to who he was. The only thing he really had to look out for was her safety and her involvement. He didn’t want to uproot her life. 

That’s why he chose to leave her car and get a ride that he let her pay for. That way if the bats saw her car then he couldn’t connect her with Joker. Y/N explained Batman's identity so Joker could understand why Bruce was so concerned. However, he never planned on using the information to further his plans. It’d take the fun out of it for him. 

The next destination was a boutique where he planned on getting them both new clothes for the show he planned on taking her to that night. He asked her to wait in another store while he prepared things for her. He went in guns blazing and forced everyone to the back of the store and into a closet. He took all cell phones, smart watches, dumb watches, and anything that could communicate with the outside world. Then he locked the door.

After disabling the cameras, which he did at the jewelry store too, he sent a text to Y/N to let her know to come over. At first, she was confused as to who it was and how they got her number but an entertaining selfie fixed that and she walked over. 

He could never fully be prepared for her walking to him. It was hypnotizing and he almost forgot to close the store to the public because of it. But he didn’t. 

“The store is yours to peruse, my sweet.” 

She threw a smile back at him before touching the sleeve of the nearest shirt.

“You getting something too?”

“It’s only fitting that we both look good tonight.”

“Good, I’m gonna put on a fashion show for you.”

And that’s exactly what she did. Nothing looked bad on her. In fact, she made everything look good, even the less than appealing clothes. He wanted her to get whatever made her heart happy because her smile drove him. Gave him another reason to exist. 

She seemed content to settle on three outfits but planned on wearing one particular one that night. One that perfectly matched the new suit Joker picked. 

The color scheme relied heavily on purple and black. Her dress having more black than purple. His suit, more purple than black. He was glad she wanted to show their connection to the world even if most people wouldn't actually see it. 

Lunch was something he couldn’t steal easily so he let her pick it up and they ate it in her car before driving back home. This time she drove. He still danced.

Once they were back at her place, they separated to get ready for his final surprise. He managed to procure box seats for the ballet who had been performing all week. Could be read that he tortured a wealthy middle-aged couple out of their seats and an old couple so they could have the box to themselves. But Y/N didn’t need to know the details. 

After showering and choosing to go without makeup, he got dressed. This suit was very similar to the ones he normally wore but it had a black button-down, with a purple vest to match the jacket. There were also black accents in the suit itself. 

Upon stepping into her room to wait for her, he caught her slipping on a shoe. When she stood and walked slowly over to him, he was breathless. Baby doll dresses were designed specifically for her. No one could convince him otherwise. 

It was sleeveless with a deep purple bow secured in the back. He noticed the bottom had a couple of layers which bounced when she walked. She opted for no tights which only made her more enticing. Smooth caramel legs glided to him in ankle boots that matched the color of the bow. Hazel eyes travelled up to land on a similarly colored bow in her hair. It was rather big but not obnoxiously so. Just big enough to be noticed.

She was stunning and adorable and everything he never looked for. As she stood in front of him, he found his hands moving of their own accord towards her body. They placed themselves on her hips, pulling her even closer. Her body responded in kind and she placed her arms around his neck, allowing him to kiss her. 

It was sweet like he was tasting her. Like if he let go, Y/N would slip away and the illusion would lift. _He couldn't let that happen._

When they pulled away from each other, he looked mesmerized while she smiled brightly. Then he was laughing as he walked her to the car, choosing a different car from the one they drove in the morning. 

“By the way, you are absolutely adorable, sweetheart,” he said, looking out the window while she drove.

“I know. You are pretty dapper yourself,” she replied.

Joker made eye contact with her before smiling widely. “I am glad I didn’t kill you.”

The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence, with the two alternating between holding hands and him leaning on her shoulder. She had been worried that someone might recognize Joker but a hat matching his suit pulled just right took care of that. She’d just have to do most of the interacting.

While he was always his true self with her, he could be surprisingly normal if he wanted. Choosing to walk hand in hand, the two of them were indistinguishable from any other couple there. He kept his head low, whispering things to either get her to laugh or just smile. However, it was stuff about how the people around them would react to knowing they were in the presence of the Clown Prince of Crime. 

He’d point out people who’d scream, people who’d run, and anything else he could think of. Occasionally, he’d randomly compliment her which earned him a smile every time and quite a few kisses. 

During the show, the solitude of the box allowed him to be the most himself. Though, he chose to just watch her enjoy the show. It was like she entered a trance with how unresponsive to the outside world she was. She’d point out specific moves and talk about the difficulty level, as well as compliment the forms of the dancers.   
Joker knew he did right by Y/N. Yes, he stole, killed, and tortured to get her to smile but he was still the Joker. If she really wanted him to quit, he would. It would be hard and he’d be beyond bored. But for her, he’d grab the moon.


End file.
